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kentocalls · 3 months ago

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endo yamato | (poison) paradise face slapping. bad decisions. descriptions of body violence, descripton of vomiting, endo's really sweet i wanted to make him craizer i'm sorry i guess sugar is the flavor of crazy i like. thanks for inspiring & letting me indulge @bjorkshire-pudding .

part 1

you're working too late and not sleeping enough. legs move like lead, the sway in your hips still hypnotic but less balanced. normally, endo would've punched tom in the dick by now but as he's a changed man; endo settles for repeatedly stabbing tom in his mind as he punctures the bald man's tires.

that la prairie eye cream is also shit, endo knew you liked the packaging and bought it the second you he caught you staring at it. but what use is a $1,000 cream if you're still having to pack concealer on your face? you hate that shit. and the fucking coffee table that keeps grazing your knee in the morning uncoordinated rush? well, if it finds itself in a dumpster fire, endo knows nothing about it.

after all, he's enjoying the pleasant blue sky outside a random tall glass building. it's pure coincidence this is your work office, he wasn't even thinking, had no plan in mind, legs carried him all on their own to this sandwich stop, has nothing to do with the itch to see you.

he's bored and you work, it's a terrible combination. his trust fund would take care of generations of your children but alas; you want independence and he wants you happy.

endo stops mid bite when he hears you laughing. not the polite, gotta stay employed to pay bills laugh, the full belly ugly snorting laugh. his own lips twitching into a smile because of it. the only infections he'll catch come from you. he turns to see the blessed sun that is your face and feels his heart swell. perfect, beautiful, radiant.

you're really, really laughing. god, he hasn't seen that....he hasn't seen it since....shit your birthday? how long ago was that?

the guy in the grey suit isn't letting up, he's relaxed and saying more, you're not able to catch your breath due to the compiled waves of laughter echoing through your body. aphrodite has no right to claim herself as the goddess of beauty when you live and breathe gold.

you don't see endo, but he watches everything. the way you tilt your head at the grey suit guy, the way your eyes have a sparkle, how you bite your lip cuz you don't want to walk away but you need to go. he remembers that tiny shuffle you do so adoringly, endo hums. leaning back into the bench, dropping his sandwich to the ground. unbothered by all the pigeons that descend.

you like grey suit, dontcha?

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you don't realize how much space endo has taken up until he's not around. another friend is getting married, another bachelorette party to be had, and you find. yourself actually getting ready in peace.

not that endo ever stopped you from wearing what you want. hell he'd pick the sluttiest thing you own, roaring "my goddess needs to be seen."

your smile falters a little.

it's your first club outing since the break up. and you'd say you're a medium get drunk and dance kinda of gal, nothing you absolutely have to do, but sometimes its fun. to dance, see the face of want and play and fun on someone else's face. endo always looked magical in the neon hues, ugh. you would feel safer if endo...no, no. don't go there. .

don't think about him, not when you're pulling on the louboutin heels he bought you just because. not when you're closing the angara diamond tennis bracelet he caught you staring at. not when you put on solitaire hoops that reminded him of your eyes.

your whole vanity is full of overpriced, luxury brands you can't pronounce because pretty things are for his pretty thing. the way heat rushes to your face, remembering his voice sound like that, FUCK. stop THINKING about him. you're so wound up. and you're remembering what your friends tell you.

the only way to get over someone is to get under someone else right? you do a once over in the mirror. you're sparkling, the dress, the skin, the glow, the smile. oh, you'll get someone under you all right.

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endo is glaring daggers into the old fucks in the board room, they clearly don't need their eyes or brains. don't they KNOW what you look like right now? don't that understand he must pay homage?

he tells his lackey he expects to see the hands of fuckers who don't know not to touch what belongs to you and ultimately him. and groans loudly. "debra, cut this fucking meeting short. what the fuck do you need approval for?"

it's only a 45 million dollar deal to approve stem cell research across three labs in the eastern countries. the fuck do they need endo to say? duh?

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you settle on a cranberry vodka, asking for more cranberry juice because that refreshing tart flavor feels good in this overheated crowd. you don't have to scout for too long, easily beckoning over the club player.

you've seen this guy with multiple girls and gals in various clubs. you're pretty sure he's been friends with benefits with the bachelorette at some point but it's not gonna stop you from getting dick tonight.

the club player has something, maybe it's that one sharp canine that did you in, reminded you of...no, not going there, shut that door.

simmer down, trap that need.

the club bathroom is a new place for you, it's dirty and messy and you grimace a little as you're slammed against the wobbly door, are only hearing how hot you are over and over and its fine. focus on that. ignore how this guy didn't even place a hand behind your head to prevent any harsh impact to your skull. that he didn't check in after you made that tiny noice.

this is what a quickie is right?

rushed, aggressive, drunk fun.

come on, focus on how hot this guy is.

let his hands touch and squeeze. it's fine, you want this, need to use him, have to use him, you're drunk enough. "so fucking hot" hands on your hips. a slight tang of disappointment when they don't grip as much as endo's would have.

a bite to your shoulder, the player barely puts any pressure into it; not like endo when he's...ah stop...endo isn't here. stop.the bathroom is empty, the night is young enough. it's you and this guy and yet you keep hoping you'll open your eyes and catch a sea of messy wavy hair and fuck. why are your eyes hungry for a certain toothy grin and thundery eyes?

why? you aren't guilty are you?

endo won't even know, not that it matters, not like he'd do anything about this. he's respecting your 'boundaries' right, like you wanted. understanding that you're going to date other people because the two of you are 'not together' like that anymore. not exclusive. it's a quickie, it's fine. meaningless. it shouldn't matter that endo only ever smells like you.

you let out a big exhale, hands on the guys face to get him back to kissing you, he needs to do a better job at distracting you but the player pulls your wrists down and keeps them flush against the door. it's different, when you test your strength and resist the players hold he smirks, "let me do my thing first hot mama."

hot what?

you haven't been called that before.

not sure if you like it.

not sure if you wanna hear it again.

maybe sexy mama but hot mama? the hottest mama you know isn't even technically a mama--

"still with me hot stuff?" doesn't he know any other adjectives? you know how good you look. this dress, the hair, a total knockout -- you're ethereal, scorching, a vixen even, and the word this guy uses is hot? you roll your eyes and the guy stiffens up.

oh fuck, you hurt his feelings. but there's no apology on your lips, why the fuck is an eye roll enough to distract him from kissing you?

"you wanna do this or not?" his voice even.

"yeah, yeah i do." he has a dick you reason, you'll feel better after being fucked, maybe, probably. he cocks an eyebrow.

"you keep pushing my hands away when i get close to touching you." he moves away, the heat gone, the tension dissipated. is he even cute? he has nice, clean, tattoo free hands, don't you want them on you?

"so you gonna be good hot thing and taste me?"

good? when you're the entire fucking package?

and what does he mean taste him?

right away too, when he hasn't earned a reward? all he's done is push into your space, give you a few short kisses. nothing real with need, hands too mean too eager too abrasive. nothing about his touch is for you, even the way his hips rut against your thigh, that angle? does nothing for you.

it isn't how endo moves. endo would never take first. not from you. pushing you into seeing stars, has you shaking and grasping and floaty. endo always waits for you to beg, waits for you to claw at his skin, look up at him with wet eyes and only then let's you take what you want from him. fuck, you could keep endo on his knees the entire night and he still wouldn't expect your lips to do what this player is asking.

what are you doing?

this guy isn't hot enough, he hasn't garnered any benefit, you want real kisses and dirty whispers to make you forget about the smell of the bathroom stall, maybe it's the setting. fuck the light is too bright in here. maybe turning them off would help, but is this really? the guy you want under you? "hey, hey, easy, hot thing."

oh for fucks sake, "i'm not drunk enough for this."

"you needa be drunk to fuck?" the player pulls off of you immediately, studying your face. "listen, i'm not a therapist but ho-"

"i swear to god you call me hot thing, hot stuff, hot mama, one more--"

"okay, okay fuck, why are you so angry?" gone, all of it, just like that. you watch his ego enter the space as he puffs up his chest, a smirk on your face. the player studies your face a bit displeased, " what i was gonna say was, i'm only gonna fuck what wants to fuck me, and you don't. i'm out."

a laugh on your lips as you saunter back to your friends, endo is taller than that asshole anyways.

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emptying your guts into the white porcelain bowl is not how you wanted to spend your night. being rejected by the the club player had you drinking all the free shots your deep cut sparkly dress got you and now you're paying for it.

body in violent revolt against the assault of intoxication.

you're crying and puking and there are hands collecting your beautifully styled hair, keeping it tucked away and safe. a warm towel swiping at your mouth when your insides are empty. an arm around your waist hoisting you up, an up you go precious, and you're at the sink. you're made to swish mouthwash and spit, over and over until endo is satisfied you aren't going to wake up feeling gross.

he uses more clean, damp, hot towels to wipe at your body, getting the pesky body glitter off as best he can. his hands soft, warm, soothing. works lotion into your limbs, massaging the venom and spite out.

you aren't okay. and these tears? oh, someone's gonna bur for this. he'll definitely know who to return your anger and sadness to soon enough. but first, you. you wouldn't leave the club unless he came to get you right? knocked out that bouncers teeth fair and square when he put a hand to your neck. endo will get him too precious, he'll cut up the bouncers fingers in so many pieces it'll look like lentil soup when he's done.

but you come first. he's gotta get you clean and consoled. the smell of alcohol and sweat off your body, your hair soothed over and cared for how you like it, just how you do it at your place. needs to see you tucked into his cotton sheets, safe and sound in dreamland. he not gonna leave you like this, moody and fussy and drunk as fuck with sleep.

"it's your fault, it's your fault." you cry into his chest. light punches to his chest.

irrational, that's what endo makes you feel.

"tell me," voice low and deep "tell me," hands on the side of your face, "angel. i'll undo it, i'll fix it, i'll end it. tell me." he needs to know what his fault is, needs to hear the next piece of him he'll rip out and discard.

endo would burn a thousand times over before ever seeing another tear fall from your face.

how dare he give rise to the storm brewing through your eyes?

hit him, punch him, break him.

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you're at the mall buying apology gifts for fucking up the bachelorette party. friends understanding that endo has 'done a number' on you but really, really you've done a number on yourself.

you barely recognize the girl in the shop window. what the fuck are you doing, trying to hook up with randos?

you don't have to look to know he's trailing along, right behind you. of course he is. takes your momentary introspection as desire for the gucci tacchini furniture in the window and snaps his fingers to a lackey to go in and buy the sofa in your favorite color. doesn't bring up last night nor the morning. it's annoying, it pisses you off.

you buy things you don't need and shove all the bags into his chest. he takes them with the sweet grin and follows like a lost puppy.

drops his card before you even reach for yours. it furthers your scorn. oh, he wants to pay? you'll make him back, waltz into every high end store and rack up an insane bills, he'll crack. he'll drop this soon enough right? that song he's humming and the way he's looking at you dreamy and soft is a lie, right?

"love it when my angel spends my money. get the purple one too, know you like that color."

you're mad, you're so fucking mad. a blazing inferno, brighter than the sun and endo basks in the light despite the heat.

you're buying more than you make in an entire year and all he does is bat his long eyelashes at you?

doesn't he have limits?

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grey suit is a nice guy. a steady guy. a smart guy. he plays the game slow and steady, builds up a friendship, dotes on you in ways endo hadn't thought of but will surely steal. endo will study and learn how to do soft dating too. he'll learn all the things grey suit says to make you laugh like that too.

it's why endo isn't bothered when your apartment door opens and you stumble in, giggling with a goofy smile that's met with hushed kisses. grey suit has his hands on your low back, his eyes on your face. oh, endo thinks this one might do a decent job of doting on you. might even fuck you right too, hell grey suit may understand the goddess you are and that there is a right way to worship.

endo rolls to his side on your brand new sofa, bringing his left leg over his right for balance, head leaning into right hand, he observes. watching you let yourself loosen up, body always stiff when things start to get heated, you're a little shy right? that's why deep kisses and whispered promises help you unwind. that's the best way, it gives you enough room to stop thinking, unwind, pull close, and allow yourself to take what you need. so far, grey suit might be patient enough to coax it outta you.

as endo watches, grey suit's eyes connect with his. grey suit doesn't startle, the motherfucker JUMPS. endo swears if that coward's hand actually hit your face in his alarm he's going to break each finger in half and shove it up grey suit's dick so far he'll need an ENT specialist to find them.

"that your roommate?"

endo gives him that smile.

"i'm the love of her life dickhead."

you give him a sharp look, what? he said dickhead not fucker or asshole. this is progress.

grey suit looks between you and endo, fucking shrimp. endo wouldn't hesitate to end any guy trying to get between you and him. the only reason this is allowed is because grey suit makes you smile and laugh on your lunch hour.

endo is confident, secure, stretches out on your sofa. you wanna use someone to pass the time? be his guest. endo can wait, confident all roads will lead to him at the end.

"i got an early meeting actually, hey, thanks for this, you're great," he looks at endo, "you are but i gotta, work. gotta make that money..." grey suit doesn't even kiss you goodbye? what a disappointing piece of shit, that motherfucker better sleep with both eye open. you let him step into your sacred space and --

"endo yamato," you clench your fists, angry. oh, he hasn't head that in a while, he tried to stop himself from cackling he really did, but it escapes. endo cackles, moves to seated, legs crossing underneath him, back straight, the most polite posture he can muster. calls you hack by your full government name with the deepest voice.

you crowd him before you can help yourself, what's endo need personal space for when anyways? it's useless, store what you want in his lungs, really. he'll take anything as long as he can feel the heat of your skin this close.

your hand twitching with how fucking annoying endo's grin is, how vexing his eyes are, how exasperating the calmness of his being is. the gall of this guy. "return the key."

"no lock is gonna keep me from you precious." his eyes dart to your hands. they're clenching so tight, your nails are gonna cut skin, gonna bleed. he uses his tattooed fingers to pry your fists open, stretching your hand flat and smacking it against his cheek, hard.

your glare softens in surprise. "you're mad at me right?"

his eyes dazed.

"i did something to upset you." he moves your hand against his cheek again, the mock slap makes you shiver. "gotta get that anger out, right? can't focus cuz of me, huh? " you swallow trying to break eye contact, don't get suckered into this. that sweet siren sound.

"i messed something up, angel didn't i?" another slap, the sound, the feel, the touch of your skin against his cheek is salvation he's unworthy of. he'll take any amount of force, any amount of pressure. keep your touch on him.

you catch yourself, letting go an exhale you held captive in your lungs. stop, before you get lost in his eyes, before he unlocks this side of you, something you can't put a lid back on, something you can't unlearn. you shove at his face and feel him smile as you pull your hand away.

"i can take it." he grabs at your hips, pulls you in, his breath hot against your stomach. takes your hand and kisses the palm. "i want it." he guides your hand to his cheek again.

"i deserve your anger, at the very least, don't i?" fuck, he's almost begging, looks up pleading, he deserves your warmth, your wrath. "take it out on me."

"take it out on you?" you don't recognize your voice.

he nods, smile wide. this is the first step to absolution for him, he made you cry didn't he? hit him until he sheds a hundred times the tears you did.

"i won't make a sound. i won't move away. as hard as you want, goddess, as hard as you need." he is sorry for making you cry, so do it, use him. give in, give in, give in.

months and months and months of endo; him walking into your apartment as if it's his name on the lease and not yours. him looking at all your dates with disdain all while telling you he doesn't mind at all, go play.

you hate you look for him when he's not around. hate all the sarcasm and snark he eats up like honey on drizzled on french toast. hate how he can take your anger as if it's welcome rain and he's parched. resent how you notice everyone expects you to shrink and be polite but endo holds you up pride. takes all of you -- the anger, the saddens, the cursing, the frustration, like it's nothing.

he wouldn't even label it as enduring your shadow no, endo, your crazy fucking endo is always begging, grasping, crawling to that monster inside your chest to, bares his neck without asking. you hate it.

hate how he looks at you for approval; every time he's nice and not snapping at a waiter, punching a guys face, or drivint the speed limit. as if he's changed. as if he's normal.

as if you not seeing him go back to the restaurant to cause a scene means it didn't happen. that punching guys beyond recognition later doesn't change the fact people you don't know flinch when you cross the street. like you aren't aware of the payout endo's company does to keep his road rage out of the public eye.

that he was worse before you, this is him healed, this is him contained. happy. your good, bad, ugly, worst days are the spark of his life, enchanting. that you should let go, let him in, all of you is his. give in, give in, give in. fuck what your friends think, fuck what your parents would say. he'll walk miles on his knees if he has to. don't be scared.

trusts you beyond with blind faith, take your fill again and again and again.

he'll prove it to you.

all you have to do is let him submit.

all you have to do is keep him.

what's he going to do with all this love that's meant for you anyway? this fidelity, it's yours. do what you want.

but you, oh. his precious goddess.

the filth before him have done a number on you haven't they? planting seeds of doubt about your worth. you don't trust his allegiance is that strong for you. that his faith is misplaced.

you'll show him.

you pull your hand back and slap hard. his whole face turns from the impact, eyes a little blown out.

that's it. that's right. he's not gonna run, he's not gonna ask you to constrict.

his angel, his saving light, his precious heart, his goddess.

no sound, no snark, no challenge.

endo licks his lips. softly returns his head to it's initial position, balanced between on top his neck. he relaxes his shoulders down, keeps his hands soft and loose on his thighs.

he looks up.

you're gonna take it out on him right?

ready, waiting, wanting.

use him.

#wind breaker fic #endo x reader #endo x you #endo yamato x reader #endo yamato x you #wind breaker x reader #thank you val for inspiring all of this #i got one maybe drabble to do when the right feelings hit ✨#but putting this guy endo back on his shelf now #april writes #endo yamato (poison paradise)

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